The Nature of Everything

I've been writing this email to Kate for the past week. Started off as a blog entry, but realized its tone was perfect for what I want to say to her. But the more I write it, the more it doesn't feel right. I've said so much of it to her in person. But the fact that I wasn't writing this for her eyes lent it a more earnest feeling.

I need to get over this shit. I like how "this" and "shit" are anagrams of each other.

Bumped into my old friend Ian the other day. We went to the Upenn bookstore and sat around chewing the fat. A lot of people don't like Ian. He's too quiet around most people. And his sense of humor is weird. But I've always found him easy to talk to. Later we went down to Center City and drank some beers with Jamie. It was the first time in a long time that I had a really excellent time. Jamie came and visited me and Jim in Italy. They've been best friends since childhood. It took me a while to warm up to him. He's got a lot of tattoos and is into punk rock, which aren't particularly things that make me uncomfortable, but I thought he was the type who really lived the lifestyle. I thought he was more violent tempered and aggressive. But he's made such efforts over the years to befriend me that I gotta wonder. And we told stories that night and laughed and the bartender kept giving us free shots. Eventually Jamie's girlfriend Natalie showed up. She is a really good looking girl. Out of his league. Easily. But he's got a lot of charisma. And he's devoted.

This blog is more and more taking the shape of just a bland journal. I'm not saying anything fresh or interesting. Or witty. Damnable depression.

Hung out with Jim and Jamie again last night after eating dinner with Toliver and Co. Later this girl Julie started texting me. She's a freak and a whore. Otherwise a nice girl. On the surface she seems like a really nice girl. Very suburban. But both Jim and Jamie told me stories that have made me want to stay away from her. I ended up taking a cab to her place at 3 in the morning. Break-danced on her kitchen floor. Hooked up with her. Refused to have sex with her. Every time I'm with someone else, I just start thinking about Kate. It's one thing to kiss and make out with a girl and fool around, but I don't feel comfortable sealing the deal. Especially not with her. Somehow feels like I'm cheating on the only girl I care about. I wonder why I do these things. I'm not really a man-whore. But I'm addicted to women. Women as a concept. A philosophy in and of themselves. I'm addicted to enigmas. And every woman is an enigma.

So I now have readers. I think everyone wants to read about my exciting life in Rome. And instead I'm in Philly and at this really dark period in my life and I'm writing this to come out of that dark period. Because I'm a happy person. And one day I will start writing about my adventures in Europe. Because I have a lot of them.

I'll tell you about all the celebrities I've seen and met. I'll tell you about my life living with an Italian rockstar (legitimate rockstar, as in tours around the world and is featured on MTV in Europe frequently). I'll tell you about my travels. 17 countries I've backpacked around. But be patient.

Till then, arrivederci tutti.

-southern